


Ambidancetrous

by lil_fubsy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Dancer Allura (Voltron), Dancer Keith (Voltron), Dancer Lance (Voltron), Dancer Shiro (Voltron), Developing Relationship, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Suggestive Themes, dance au, different styles of dance, klance, specific songs mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-07-02 14:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15798387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_fubsy/pseuds/lil_fubsy
Summary: Keith is a hip hop dancer whose training comes from the streets. Lance is a technical dancer whose been studying the techniques since he was a child. The two had never crossed paths until Allura pairs them up to be dance partners.An all male duo with two completely different styles of dance, Lance and Keith not only grow as better friends, but as better dancers as they learn from each other.And, who knows? Maybe that boy they've ignored their whole life was meant to be with them from the beginning.





	1. B-Boy meets Danseur

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lil_pianissimo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_pianissimo/gifts).



> Are dance AUs still relevant? No matter. I love Voltron dance AUs, and I wanted to write one for myself. I put a lot of thought into this. I really tried to give everything a meaning: nothing is there just to be there. Everything from the setting to the song choice to the styles they dance is important. I really tried to emphasize that. So, keep that in mind as you're reading as to what the songs mean, and if they're referring to a relationship, or a specific character, a scene/future scene, or even if it just reference Voltron in general (just to give you some ideas). I hope you enjoy!

There’s only a few instances in life that makes one feel like the unfortunate protagonist in a low budget teen flick film. A choice of words acting as a catalyst for such a feeling that ultimately drives the target into a state of unresponsive consciousness.   

“Keith, I want you to meet Lance. Lance, this is Keith. I’m assigning you two to be partners from now on.”

The word echoed loudly in their ears. _Partners._ Partners?

Keith didn’t sign up for this, he didn’t even sign up to attend dance classes himself! He had only started dancing about a week ago; how could Allura possibly think that it was a good idea to have him be…partners…with a _guy?_ With _this_ guy!

Lance never questioned Allura’s judgement; he had been taking her classes for years now, and they themselves have been partners for half of that. He trusted Allura with all his heart, but to be…partners…with a _guy?_ With _that_ guy!

“You must be out of your mind if you think I’m dancing with freakin’ mullet over here!” Lance retorted towards his now former dance partner. Keith remained standing, still shook by the introduction. Allura directed her attention to the audacious boy who had questioned her demand. “What happened to us? Am I not good enough anymore?”

“Of course not, Lance.” She reassured with her sweet and kind voice. “I just…cannot dance at the moment because of my recent injury, but I didn’t want you to not do the same because I’m out of commission.” Lance fumbled over his words.

“I-I mean that’s understandable, but why him?! Why a guy anyway?” He referenced Keith in all his awkward glory as he witnessed the argument between the two.

“Keith learns content quickly, and you adjust to other people well.” Allura explained, wrapping up the conversation at hand. “You two will do just fine together.” She excused herself from the room and left the two guys alone with each other. Both were left in the unresponsive state that they had been in the beginning. Turning towards each other in disbelief, Keith was the first to sigh at the inconvenience. Out of all the worries he had about starting to dance at this place, becoming someone’s partner was the last thing on his mind. Nonetheless, a guy. How did he even start dancing here in the first place?

_A Week Ago_

 It was after school had ended for the day, and Keith had settled himself down in his bedroom eating popcorn and watching the most recent Buzzfeed: Unsolved video. He knew he had homework to do, but he pushed it aside for the next morning before classes would start.

As Ryan and Shane were just getting into the investigation phase, Keith heard the faint sound of his doorknob clanking, followed by a grunt, which ended with knocking on the other side. Putting one more piece of popcorn in his mouth, he paused the video and got up to answer the door. He unlocked it and proceeded back to his bed. The door opened on the other side.

“I told you not to lock the door.” A man walked in to Keith’s room as he belly flopped onto his bed.

“Learn to knock and I won’t have to lock the door.” He sassily shot back, popping more popcorn into his mouth. He was abruptly whacked on the back of his head. “Ow.” He mumbled with audible sarcasm. Another whack followed. “Okay seriously, Shiro, stop it.”

“Check your attitude and I wouldn’t have to smack you.” Shiro warned with a smirk and an additional eyebrow raise. Keith squinted, and _lip smacked_ his way out of the argument.

“What do you want?” Keith grumbled, putting his earbuds back into his ears. He hadn’t unpaused the video yet, but certainly wasn’t worrying about what Shiro had to say. Tuning people out had become a skill of his and pretending like he was listening had become another. Only tuning in at certain moments, he suddenly paused and removed one of his earbuds. Taking on a befuddled look, he questioned what Shiro had just said. “What?”

“I signed you up for one of the classes where I work. You’re coming with me today.”

“…what?!” Keith swung his legs over to the side of the bed where they hung. Shiro was making his way out of the room like everything was all hunky dory, while Keith choked on his words just to produce something coherent. “Whazzit-wha-that stupid dance studio? You know that’s not my thing, why would you even think about signing me up for a class?!” Shiro rolled his eyes as he turned to face the younger.

“Keith, you need to be active. Attending stuff like this gives you the chance to meet new people, and making some friends is not a bad choice for you. Also, I know you do this sort of thing outside of here anyway. You don’t wear sneakers otherwise.” Shooting a glance towards   his worn-out sneakers, Keith, not so stealthily, kicked the sneakers under his bed, removing them from the mind’s eye. He side glanced Shiro with a blameful expression, Shiro giving a knowing smirk in return. “Get changed; we’re leaving in ten.” He shut the door, leaving Keith speechless.

The car ride was uneventful and full of one sided spite. Keith pouted; his hand keeping his head from falling out of the car window. He was giving Shiro the silent treatment, refusing to acknowledge the driver’s existence. He supposed the ride there wasn’t at all that bad. Shiro was blasting Beyoncé as he drove, and who doesn’t love Beyoncé, right? The studio was only about 10-15 minutes away from where they lived, but it was in the middle of no where (an exaggeration, but still). The only buildings around were a car dealership, which didn’t have a wide variety of cars, and a storage unit for trucks. Well, there was a donut place that was a walk away, and there was a McDonald’s a street over. He had to be real: if there was a McDonald’s close by, how bad of a place could it possibly be?

When the car was parked, Keith begrudgingly stepped out to follow Shiro inside. Shoulders hunched over and his arms crossed, he averted his gaze from the man at the front desk who, of course, Shiro just had to strike a conversation with. This person was a stranger to Keith, he had a mustache and was clearly the overly friendly type of fellow, but that didn’t persuade Keith into opening himself up in any sort of way cause damn it he was going to mess SOMETHING up if he opened his mouth.

              That’s when he noticed Shiro ushering him over. Wait, what did he…did he want him to…introduce himself? _How dare he?_ Shiro repeated the gesture, and Keith treaded over with great displeasure.

              “Coran, this is Keith. Keith, this is Coran. He’s the owner’s uncle…essentially.” Shiro introduced. Short and sweet. The man known as Coran began to twiddle with his mustache.

              “Well, that’s not all I am. I’m also the unofficial janitor and receptionist!” He announced this fact quite proudly, holding his head up high. Keith questioned why he didn’t say receptionist first since that was so clearly what he was as he continued. “It’s a pleasure Keith!”

              “Thank you.” He strained and then immediately cringed. “I mean, you too, Karen.”

              “Coran.”

              “CORAN.” Keith recoiled in on himself and palmed his forehead. “God, I am…so sorry!” Coran just laughed which only heightened Keith’s embarrassment.

              “That’s quite alright! You can call me Karen if you want! Doesn’t bother me, no siree!” He really was an over optimistic guy. “I bet you’re new here!”

              “He is.” Shiro answered for him. “He’s in for the hip hop master class at five.” Shiro pointed to a paper in front of Coran, which Keith assumed was a schedule.

              “Oh, I see him!” Coran exclaimed. “Go on ahead then! You have a class to teach, and you have a class to attend. Don’t cause any trouble now, or I’ll give you a WASSAH!” He karate chopped the air around Keith, and he scrunched his face, slightly weirded out by the action.

              “Yeah, sure.” He stated quickly as to avoid any more contact. He rushed over to Shiro, trying to avoid the multitude of students in the already cramped building. “Alright, where do I go?” He grumbled.

              “Oh, you can just stick with me.” He answered casually. He walked into a room and held the door open for Keith. Keith gawked in disbelief.

              “It’s _your class?!_ ” He spat with his eyes wide.

              “That’s right.” Keith rolled his eyes a full 180 degrees. “Don’t be like that. Remember, this is for you.”

              “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He made his way to the back of the room, avoiding the other students in the room as much as possible.

              Keith was noticeably out of place. His idea of a dance outfit was his one and only pair of sneakers: which were an old, worn out pair of Skechers, black joggers and a red sweatshirt two sizes too big for him. Everyone else had on proper dance sneakers, shorts or sweatpants, and t-shirts and tank tops. Heck, majority of the women in there were only wearing sports bras as their top. Even Shiro was more decked out than what he was, and he lived with him. He was wearing all black: tank, sweatpants, and high-top sneakers. He probably should’ve paid attention to how Shiro dressed to get an idea on what clothes to wear.

              Shiro’s style of dance was very classic 90s hip hop. It was fast, but punchy, yet very natural in that it was easy to just get into it. It was one of those styles of dance that could be put with anything and it would work. People tended to like his choreography because they were high energy and required the use of the whole body. Shiro was a natural, and a natural like him was rare in the small city of Beaumont, Texas.

              Keith would never admit to actually liking the dance class. It was out of character and would only prove Shiro right, and he wasn’t going to give him that glory. He certainly preferred to do things his way rather than be taught, but he couldn’t deny that it was a lot of fun. The dance itself was choreographed to _Upgrade U (_ no wonder Beyoncé was all they listened to while driving) and it was exhilarating to perform. The class itself was only about an hour, but time sped by as if it was on fast forward. It was upsetting to him that it had ended so quickly…not that he would tell Shiro.

               When the rest of the class was leaving, a lot of them giving Shiro high-fives and such, he was really popular, Shiro leaned against the mirrors and threw Keith a water bottle. Keith caught it and chugged the whole thing down. Dancing was truly a work out. The room itself was humid because of the amount of sweat that the choreography produced, and Keith was no exception.

              Out of breath, Shiro asked what Keith’s thoughts on the class were.

              “It was alright.” He lied as they were making their way out of the building. Shiro shrugged at the response.

              “Well, I won’t force you to go to anymore of the classes if you _really_ don’t like it.” There was a slyness in his voice where Keith could tell he wasn’t joking, but that something was fishy about the statement. Suspicious of the man’s intentions, he noticed Shiro wave at the man Keith mistakenly renamed Karen on accident. “Have a good night, Coran!” Coran waved back.

              “You too, Shiro. Have a good one!” He went back to doing whatever he was doing behind the desk, and Shiro walked away towards the exit. Keith was frozen in his place, caught at a crossroads. He looked back at Coran, then to Shiro. Coran, Shiro, Coran, Shiro.

              “Hey, Shiro.” He called out, retrieving the attention of the other. “I’ll be out in a second. I…gotta do something first.”  When he said that, Shiro’s mouth perked up into an all-knowing grin.

              “Okay, well, I’ll be waiting in the car.” He departed with the word smug written all over his face, and Keith knew then that he already knew what was going through Keith’s head. Ridiculing himself for falling for Shiro’s ideals, he swiftly jogged up to the desk. He knocked on the desk a few times.

              “Coran.” He said loud enough to get his attention. The desk moved slightly, and a quick thud followed soon after.

              “Oh, quiznack!” He heard from the source of the thud. Keith questioned the credibility of that word.

              “…Coran?” He repeated. To his pleasure, he managed to get the attention of the man at the desk. He did, however, shoot up looking like a deer in headlights, which startled the younger to a certain extent.

              “Ah, yes!” He stood up straight and wiped off translucent debris from his uniform. “Keith, was it? How may I be of service?” He was pretending like Keith didn’t just see him bump his head against the desk. This man was ridiculous.

              “When does Shiro teach classes?” He asked with a straight forward aura.

              “Shiro? He teaches at five every weekday.”

              “Can you put me down for all of his classes?”

              “Certainly!” Coran pulled out a pen to adjust the schedule in front of him. He paused, however, making slight humming noises, which worried Keith.

              “Don’t tell me all the classes are filled.” He thought to himself as he watched the man anxiously.

              “Well, Keith, I got good news and bad news.” He placed the pen down and looked Keith dead in the eye. “The bad news is that his classes are filled to the brim.” A sigh of disappointment escaped his mouth.

              “Okay,” He sighed. “What’s the good news then?”

              “You’re already signed up!” A silence emerged between them as Keith took the time to process the information given.

              “…what?” He managed to spit out in his dumbfounded state.

              “You’re already signed up for his classes! Wanted to double check and make sure, I see what your doing.” He shook a finger at Keith like he was on to something, and Keith himself hadn’t gotten the memo.

              “Oh, well, thanks…I guess?” He awkwardly waved goodbye and left the building with a horrible case of the four w’s: Who, what, where, and why?

              Once he got into the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt, he contemplated what Coran had said again as Shiro sped away and onto the main road.

              “…Shiro?” He wondered out loud, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. Shiro hummed in acknowledgement as to not take his eyes off the road. “Did you sign me up for _all_ of your classes?”

              “Why? Did you check?” His smirk grew wider as he noticed Keith deliberately look away from him. He didn’t need anyone to tell him what the answer was, it was already clear as day.

              Cut to a week after he started attending the masterclass every day, and when the class he attended was about to end. Shiro was giving some last-minute corrections and advice to the other dancers, when he was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. As the old ritual goes, the room fell in total silence while Shiro answered the door.

              Keith didn’t fail in being amongst the many to eavesdrop on the conversation. At the door was a woman with white curly hair, dark skin and bright eyes, dressed like a ballerina, minus the skirt, but had a cast on her foot and was walking with crutches. Keith’s first thought was, “Was she hurt suddenly? Did she need to go to the hospital?” But, it ended up being neither of those things, because she hopped on in and sat in a chair that Shiro had provided for her.

              “Sorry for the minor change of plans, as I say every week.” Shiro began to say. What was he going on about? If this was leading on to be a dad joke, Keith swore to God. “But, looks like this class is going to go over a bit.” It looked like everyone knew the drill except for Keith because every student-no, really, every student-erupted into shouts of excitement and joy. He was beyond confused at this point. “You guys know the drill. Off to the sides!” Keith followed suit only because everyone else was. While everyone was warming up, for a reason Keith was still unaware of, he squeezed past everyone and went to Shiro; who was getting music ready in the corner.

              “Shiro, what’s going on?” He asked in a whisper. He didn’t want to get judged by the other students for being oblivious.

              “Oh, that’s right. This is your first.” He said, not in a whisper, and more importantly did NOT answer Keith’s question. Shiro received an oblivious look from the other, and so he continued. “It’s essentially a dance off.” He explained. “Every week, on a random day, the owner of the studio drops into class to see the students perform whatever dance I prepared that day. She likes to see the students in groups; so, that’s why everyone is off to the side and super excited, because it gives them a chance to be noticed by Allura.” Keith gawked at what he heard.

              “ _She’s_ the owner?!” He uttered flabbergasted. Shiro nodded.

              “Uh huh. And the head choreographer.” He added on, pointing back at the owner of the studio. Keith went from staring at Shiro, to Allura. Looking back and forth, taken aback by the confirmation and unexpected news of a dance off.

              “Wh-hold on.” Keith interjected as to clarify some misconceptions. “You’re telling me that that woman over there is the owner of this dance studio _and_ the top choreographer…and you’re actually _friends with her?!”_ The more he thought about it, the more his mind deteriorated into goop. Shiro stared back blank faced, and responded with-

              “Yes, she’s my employer.” And then he made a face that Keith could only describe as the ‘confused girl meme’ face. He mockingly copied the expression until Shiro had waved him away so that he could begin the dance off. Leaning against the bar on the wall, he watched as Shiro called out the first few people to go, based on who wanted to. His choice of song? _Intergalactic_ by the Beastie Boys (not one of Keith’s favorites).

              The more people that went, the more Keith was understanding the process and meaning of the individual performances. The actual choreography learned was purposely choreographed short (this one in particular was only a minute and sixteen seconds), and the extra time after that was time for the students to improvise with freestyle. All the students were super supportive of each other; cheering each other’s names and other forms of praise. Words such as, ‘YAHS’ and ‘SLAY’ were thrown into the mix with each group shown. Were all of them fantastic at freestyle? No. But, that wasn’t the point. He didn’t quite understand why dancing in front of the owner was such a big deal, but everyone’s priorities were their own.

              A few dancers later and Keith felt that it was getting close for the improv session to end. The last group left the floor, and yeah it was a good time, but a good time can only last so long.

              “Alright, I feel like we have time for _one more person._ ” Shiro teased the students. Everyone shot their hands up in the air whether they had already danced or not. Shiro was walking around the room, examining each of the dancers to see which one he wanted to end the class with. After a thorough examination, he felt it was only fair to end with the one person who had yet to show his true talents. “Keith,” Surprised to hear his name, Keith turned his head towards the choreographer, who returned the look with confidence. “Why don’t you end this class solo?” All eyes were on Keith after the mention of a solo, and furthermore, heightened his nerves as his adrenaline started to rush. Without any other option, Keith simply nodded, accepting his brother’s challenge. Making his way from the back of the room to being front and center, he overheard a couple of students question his participation in the class. ‘Since when was he in this class?’ They asked. ‘Why does he go solo? He’s just the loner in the corner.’ They criticized. ‘Emo’s can’t dance.’ ‘He can’t even express himself with words. What makes Shiro think he can do it with dance moves?’ Complain, complain, complain. With the amount of smack these people talked, it made him wonder if they even considered the phrase _don’t judge a book by it’s cover._

              Taking a deep breath through his nose, then blowing it out from his mouth, he side eyed Shiro, giving him the que to play the music. He did so, and re-winded the music to the start. Nerves usually didn’t affect how Keith danced, but that didn’t mean he felt any less. He closed his eyes to block himself off, he didn’t want to see everyone’s attention on him, but he also just hated looking at himself in the mirror.

              “It’s no different than before.” He told himself. “You’re just…able to be seen is all.” He took another deep breath as the music started to play. The robotic, synthesized sound bouncing off the walls and back to the ears of the main dancer at hand. A few seconds in and Keith had resorted to doing small pulses to the drums in the background before the choreography began. He heard a few ‘ooh’s from his audience-what, they’ve never heard of popping before? – and before he knew it, the dance had started. Putting his resting bitch face to good use, he made the dance look easy with his sharp execution. In the most crucial of moments, he inserted the notorious stank face. Shiro always said that if this facial is not used while dancing, then the dancer is not dancing hard enough. Wise words and good advice. Because once facials are added to a dance, then everyone gets into it and the dance looks a hundred times better. The negativity towards him seemed to disperse, because now everyone was super into Keith’s interpretation of the dance. And when the freestyle came up, oh, they weren’t ready.

Keith’s individual style had no definition. It was just a mix of multiple hip hop variants he had learned over the years. He just did whatever felt right, whatever was natural. So, that resulted in his freestyle involving popping and locking, a classic walk it out, a short-lived running man that he used to drop to ground only to bounce back up into a jab combo, and then the crowd’s favorite: b-boy power moves. He had yet to learn the extreme power moves, but he could do a windmill, and a stab, and Shiro taught him how to do a kip-up. (Actually, Shiro taught him most of those moves). One of his favorite moves to do was a headspring, so he ended his freestyle via headspring. The class went wild when they saw the skill that the _emo_ had. Keith had never been in contact with so many people that showed a liking towards him. People were punching his arms and shaking his shoulders like they’ve been best buds since he entered. Like, no. The same people doing these things were criticizing him in the beginning. Stop touching him.

Shiro ended the class, officially this time, and ran towards Keith full throttle as everyone else was leaving. He threw his arms around the younger and shook him like doll.

“That’s the Keith I know! Showing everyone how it’s done!” Keith chuckled at the praise as Shiro squeezed him harder. “What you did back there was awesome!”

“You think so?” He asked with a bashful smile. “I was just winging it.”

“Keith don’t even give me that. You know your freestyles are bomb.” Keith shrugged with a smirk, knowing Shiro was right.

“Your performance _was_ quite impressive.” Shiro and Keith turned their heads to face Allura standing in front of them, a smile on her face. Stunned by her approach, Keith thanked the woman for the compliment. “Of course. Your name was…Keith, wasn’t it?” Keith nodded, not expecting her to remember his name. “Well then, Keith, I would like to see your talents be put into other mediums. I feel you would excel and progress yourself as a dancer, and I want to know if you would trust me enough to take you to the next step.” She offered professionally. The offer stupefied him, and he questioned whether he had heard her correctly or not. He looked to Shiro for some sort of advice, Shiro saying that he should just go with his gut. He had no idea what Allura had in mind, but, for some reason, there was nothing telling him that he shouldn’t take up the offer.

“Sure. Yeah, I would like that.”

It was after that that Allura took him to another room down the hall where only one other student was. This student was much tanner than Keith, was wearing true primary blue leggings with a black muscle tank and black jazz shoes and was on the floor stretching with his nose to his knees when they entered.

That was when she announced the sudden partnership between the two dancers. And that’s where they were now.


	2. It Takes Two to Tango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is out and proud!  
> Also, I forgot! I have a playlist on Spotify for this fanfic that I like to listen to. Ambidancetrous is what it's called! I think it's a good playlist, if you want to give it a shot!  
> I'll keep this brief, but I tried to add more elements to this chapter. Mainly because I don't want it to be all dance all the time. That just wouldn't be ethical. I needed to make it more relatable in some ways.  
> Also, I'll say what I said in the first one chapter, I really try to add symbolism and foreshadowing and all that good stuff to add some depth. I want you to look for that.  
> I mean you don't have to, I just think it's more fun that way. Personally.  
> Alright, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Keith was in a direly bad mood. Absolutely. Horrible. 

It was only Tuesday, and he already knew that this week was going to be shit.

Drowning in self-made agony, he glowered out the window next to his desk, paying no mind to the lectures his teacher was throwing out. His eyes twitched in agitation as he reminisced the reason why his mood was down the drain.

Yesterday

“Well, this is just perfect.” The boy, named Lance, remarked. Pinching his nose in frustration and letting out a much-needed sigh of irritation. “Allura dumps me just so she could pair me up with the local hothead.” 

“What’s your problem?” Keith asked the other, peeved at the introduction. “You don’t even know me.” Lance’s expression changed to that of bafflement as he blinked repeatedly at the comment, followed by a series of gasps at different pitches. 

“I don’t know you? We’ve been in the same classes together since the sixth grade!” It was Keith’s turn to blink his eyes in a baffled manor. He averted his gaze from the other’s piercing discombobulated stare.

“Oh, you, uh, went to Garrison Middle?”

“Yes.”

“And…you go to Garrison High?”

“Yes!”

“And…what class do I have with you?”

“WE’RE LITERALLY IN THREE CLASSES TOGETHER!!!” He screamed, not believing what he was hearing. Woah, Keith was in three classes with this guy? He could not remember this guy for the life of him. He must not be very memorable. Keith rolled his eyes, the conversation just aggravating him.

“Okay, whatever.” He muttered as he walked over to a wall to put his stuff down. Lance crossed his arms and groaned.

“Well, there’s no point in standing around here doing nothing, since we’re officially partners now.” Lance made himself comfortable in the center of the room. “We should probably start with basics drills to warm up a little.” Lance straightened his back and extended his arms with his feet crisscrossed. “We’ll do battements first.” The sentence that was stated so calmly lingered in Keith’s head like an unwanted guest. He turned towards his new partner in slow, jerky movements. 

“Batte…what?” He tried to repeat but butchered the word entirely. Lance peeked at the other amongst the soothing, instrumental music he had put on to set the mood. 

“Battements. You know, like: grand battement en rond, battement fondu, battement de gage. Those things.” He was trying to speak to him, Keith knew it, but it was like he was trying to speak another language or something. More perplexed than the first time he said it, he looked straight into Lance’s eyes and raised his eyebrows ignorantly. 

“And…those are?” As if on cue, the music screeched to a halt and Lance’s expression dropped as he comprehended how disastrous of a situation the two were really in.

“You…” He spoke slowly, as if he was scared to speak. “…don’t know how to do a battement?” Keith shook his head after thinking about the word again. Lance’s posture crumbled; his arms dropping with a slap to his quads, and his shoulders slouching over. “Okay. Do you know how to do a…an arabesque?” He asked, only to receive another no from Keith. “Fouette?” Another no. “A chasse? Jete? Illusion? Attitude? A leap! Can you do a leap? Can you do anything like that?!” Keith shook his head repeatedly to all the options given, to Lance’s dismay. Lance’s face turned into a doubtful hope as he thought of the last possible option. “Do you specialize in ballroom by any chance?” Keith scrunched up his face rancorously. Lance, throwing his hands back with a huff, looked at him in disbelief. “Well, what can you do?!” He raised his voice, vexed. 

“Plenty if you keep your mouth shut.” He barked back, giving him a judgmental head tilt. Lance gritted his teeth at the action.

“Like what? A plie?” He said mockingly. Keith bit his lip.

“…I don’t know what that is!” He spat quickly, pointing a finger at his so-called partner. Lance rolled his eyes. “But you can play any hip-hop song and I will beat you down to the ground!” Lance gave him a look of disappointment, which infuriated Keith.

“OOOooooooh. You’re a freestyler.” He dragged out, dissatisfied. Keith clenched his fists so tight his knuckles went white.

“And that’s a problem because…?” He asked through clasped teeth. That guy best be choosing his words carefully. Lance crossed his arms defiantly. 

“It’s nothing personal,” He said as it was going to be personal. “It’s just not dancing.”

“I’m sorry?” He reacted, peeved. Lance shrugged his shoulders. 

“It’s not dancing.” He repeated. “It’s just a bunch of uncoordinated moves someone comes up with on the spot.” He added one last jab. “You’re not a real dancer.” Inflamed by his words, Keith found his hand grasping the collar of Lance’s shirt and yanking him closer to his face. 

“I may not be studio bred like you, but I have more skill in one phalanx than you do in your entire body.” He growled, then pulled him closer to stare directly into his indigo eyes, feeling his breath. “Keep that in mind the next time you insult me, asshole.” Staring so intensely that sparks were flying, the hothead released the other without breaking eye contact. A few more seconds of raging vexation, Keith pivots to swipe his stuff and storm out of the building.

“Where the hell are you going?!” Lance shouts, throwing his arms back.

“Home, since I have to be a prima to fit into your mold of a dancer.” He sarcastically retorted. Lance flicked an offended hand to his chest and gasped.

“Ugh, fine!” Lance spat. “Saunter out of here like the prima donna you think you are!” In response, Keith gave him the finger with a grimace. 

“Speak for yourself, my liege.” He completed the action with an exaggerated, sloppy bow, and strolled out the exit with the finger still activated.

Just thinking back on the memory made his blood boil. 

“Mr. Kogane.” He heard his name get called and turned his head lazily towards the source. A woman in her mid-50s stood in the front of the room. She gave him a suspecting look. “I asked you a question.”

“Could you repeat the question?” He asked, monotonous. The teacher raised her eyebrows.

“Yes; pay attention, please.”

“Yes ma’am.” Speaking on one pitch, he fake saluted her and settled his face in between his hands. She repeats the question.

“Why is light pure energy?” She applies diction to each syllable as if Keith was an inane imbecile. He furrows his brows.

“It’s not though.” He answers confidently. She nodded her head, impressed. 

“Very good.” She then goes on a tangent about how light wasn’t pure energy at all and etcetera. Keith blinked slowly, uninterested in the teacher’s physic riddles.

“Well, that doesn’t make much sense. You can’t have light without some sort of energy.” Keith’s lazy eyelids widened at the voice and his eyebrows furrowed along with it. Slow-moving, he turned his head to the side, his eyes dragging behind as they shifted over a second later. In the seat next to him sat the asshole crane with the unpopular opinions, looking about just as bored as he was before he heard his voice. His body jolted with a minor heart-attack when he saw him next to him. Said asshole shifted his gaze to the victim of surprise. “…What’s up?” He greeted casually.

“When did you get here?” Keith whispered, skeptical. Lance cocked a lazy eyebrow. He obviously wasn’t as surprised to see him.

“I told you, we’re in, like, three classes together.” Keith shook his head, baffled. “And this has been my seat since the beginning of the year.” They sat next to each other since the beginning of the year?! How was Keith so dense? He swore that he would’ve gotten annoyed by this guy more than he believed possible. A silence emerged between them.

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice me in first period.” Keith gawked at the statement.

“You’re in my first period?!”

“And second.”

“WE HAVE THREE CLASSES IN A ROW?!!” Lance nodded in response and Keith leaned his head back, going through a crisis. He then took note of something Lance had said.

“Why would I have noticed you first period?” He curiously asked. Lance sat back in his seat, stretching his long arms and legs.

“Welp, I tripped through the doorway and busted my nose on the floor, then some guys laughed and called me a stupid Mexican, and then I yelled at them that I was Cuban and recited the entire pacer test in Spanish all while pointing fingers at all of them, and then I was sent to the principle’s office for shouting obscene words towards my fellow students, but then I told the old guy that it was just the pacer test in Spanish, and after looking it up on YouTube, I was sent back to class after ten minutes.” He spat out in one breath. Stupefied by the answer he got, Keith’s mouth was left agape.

“Uh…wow.” He managed to get out. “That’s uh…quite a story.”

“I was sure that you would’ve noticed THAT of all things.” He exaggerated. “Not the fact that I sit next to you in third period.” 

“Sorry, I was reminiscing our fateful greeting.” Keith snarled, making Lance’s eyes twitch. 

“Yeah? Well, that’s what I was doing before my face hit the floor!” He spat back. Keith clicked his tongue with false pity as mock guilt embraced his facial features.

“Oh, Lance…” He began in a bitter sweet tone. “I thought ballerinas were light on their feet! I guess it’s just a stereotype.” He shrugged the shoulder closest to Lance and turned away with a self-satisfied look. He could see Lance’s face turn red from the corner of his eye with veins popping out on his forehead. He could even hear him hissing. Keith smirked at the reaction. 

The bell rang, signaling the end of third period, and the pack of students emerged from their seats to try and be the first one’s out. Keith, in no rush, put the supplies from that current class into his bag, zipped it up, and slung it over his shoulder. When he got into the hallway, he felt a sudden pressure on his shoulder, and then was swung around ferociously. He wasn’t surprised at who it was. 

“You’re a real ass, you know that?” He told him, both standing in the middle of the hallway. Keith cocked an eyebrow.

“That’s what you wanted to tell me?” He snickered. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He went to turn around but was brought back to his previous place by the same guy. He rolled his eyes as he went to face Lance once more. “Dude, I would love to sit around and talk about my shit personality, but I have weight training outside and four minutes to get there, so.” He turned on his heal and put some distance between the two of them. 

“You better not be late to practice!” Lance shouted as Keith was making his way down the stairs. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever!” He shouted back. 

When the final bell rang, Keith nearly jumped out of his seat. It was nothing against his literature class, he was just a 100% done with today and wanted to get home as soon as possible. When he got outside, give it to Texas for being over eighty degrees towards the end of fall, he walked over to the school’s parking lot instead of the buses. Shiro was a teacher over at the middle school, which was in close proximity with the high school, so he just drove Keith to school every day. Making his way over towards the car, he noticed that Shiro was already waiting, leaning up against the vehicle.

“You ready to head out?” He asked him as he pushed himself off the car. Keith looked at him confused.

“Shiro, we’re just going home.” He remarked. 

“No, you have practice at the Castle today.” Shiro replied while starting up the car. The dance studio was called the Castle of Lions, which he thought was a stupid name, and everyone else must think so too because they just nicknamed it The Castle. Still doesn’t vibe well with the high schooler, but his opinion didn’t matter because it wasn’t his studio.

“Yeah, at 5.” He thick headedly pointed out. Shiro turned to him with a faint gaze.

“No. 3:30.” Shiro corrected. Confusion grazed Keith’s face again.

“Did you change your schedule?” He inquired. Shiro shook his head no.

“No, but your schedule changed when Allura paired you up with Lance. You have practice right after school now.” Keith mouthed a ‘what’ in disbelief as no one informed him of the last-minute change. He looked at the time on the car’s stereo and felt his soul leave his body.

“I have fifteen minutes?!” He panicked. “Shiro, I don’t have anything to change into!” He referenced the Garrison uniform as his current and only outfit of the day. Yes, they wore uniforms; the middle school did too. They wore this stupid kumquat blazer with black lining and a cream-colored undershirt. A black tie and grey pants to go along with it and then these black boots. Probably should mention that they had to wear a belt unless they wanted to get dress coded. The Garrison wasn’t necessarily a private school, so Keith hadn’t the slightest idea as to why they had to wear uniforms. But, he certainly knew that a school uniform was not proper attire for physical activity. Shiro tapped his index finger on his lips, pondering a possible solution.

“Don’t you have a weight training class?” Shiro asked him. Keith stared into the blank space while the cogs in his head were turning ever so slowly. In one swift motion, he b-lined back to the school in a sprint to retrieve his dirty gym clothes. He could only pray that the building was unlocked, which it was thank God. He fiddled with the lock on his locker until it opened, grabbed the clothes, and slammed the locker shut before busting through the doors and sprinting back to the car. He threw all his stuff in the front seat and forced himself in. Shiro snickered at the out of breath teen as he told him to shut up and drive.

When they arrived at the Castle, Keith was the first to get out of the car, against Shiro’s words as he was still in the process of parking, but Keith could care less. He ran inside the studio, fully dressed in a now sweaty uniform and backpack, with the clothes held firmly in his arms. Coran was startled by the younger’s appearance as he went to check in at the desk.

“Let me guess, you’re running late, aren’t you now?” He assumed with a particular gleam in his eye. Keith nodded, making a full effort to not start a conversation and just check in to the damn building. Coran hummed, and then pulled at his collar. “Don’t you worry now. Go on back and get changed, and I’ll go inform ol’ Lance that you’re here.” 

“Thanks, Coran.” He thanked breathily, as he walked over to the right in the destination of the changing rooms. 

“Aw, I thought I was Karen from now on!” Keith could hear disappointment in his voice. “I rather liked the name myself!” Keith chuckled at the man as he laughed it off, Keith’s being subtler than Coran’s, and walked over to the left, which was wear the practice rooms were located. 

Once he was dressed in his dirty gym shorts and his already sweat stained tank top, complete with the only pair of sneakers he owned, he made his way to his designated practice room. He entered the room with an excessive amount of aggressiveness, attracting the attention of his unfortunate partner who was turning in circles with his leg changing sides…or positions. Seriously, what was he doing? 

Lance gave Keith a judgmental side eye.

“Dude, you look like shit.” He spoke a little too honestly. Keith stopped his huffing just to eerily glare daggers into Lance’s eyes. Lance shivered at the ominous aura. His hands flew up defensively. “Ha, kidding!” He nervously forced a laugh and took a few steps backwards, just for safe measure. Keith acknowledged the action by blowing his bangs out of his face with a ‘pfft’, which knocked him out of his hostile state. Lance squinted wearily at the boy. “Freakin’ creep.” He thought to himself. Keith closed the practice room door and took a few steps closer to Lance.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” He unenthusiastically said while cracking his neck. Lance, a bit repulsed by the action, nodded with a-

“Yeah, okay. But first…” Keith looked at him with little curiosity. “You need to pull your hair back.” 

“Why?” He questioned. The little amount of curiosity leaving his body. Lance looked perturbed.

“Because it’s proper dance protocol!” He argued. “If you’re going to be dancing, all hair must be pulled back and out of your face!” He made a motion to imply sweeping the hair back and looked to Keith for approval. Keith…did not seem to approve.

“I don’t really care about that stuff.” He admitted with zero guilt. “Now, are we going to do this? Or are you going to baby me like we’re in kindergarten?” Lance had zero comment. “Cool.” He crossed his arms, giving Lance a suspecting appearance. “Well, Ms. Prima, you’re clearly the expert on this partner thing. What’s the first thing a partner should do?”

…

This was a disaster.

Allura and Shiro were sitting outside of the practice room listening to the two dancers argue about this and that for an hour and a half. How they could manage to fight for that long was a mystery to them both. Allura sighed and slumped her head down in her hand.

“They really can’t seem to get along, can they?” She asked out loud, the sound of disappointment in her voice. Shiro hummed.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” He then took a sip from his water bottle, and Allura groaned as she leaned her head back.

“I made a mistake. They’re not working well together at all!” Allura fell back into her hands, defeated. A crash was heard from inside the room. It peaked the two’s interests but was soon disregarded. Allura gave another sigh. “I should’ve never thought that this would work.”

Shiro, feeling pity for the female, while also doubling as slightly peeved at her self-doubt, moved in closer to help ease her worries.

“Allura, you’re one of the most influential dancers I know.” He began. “The decisions you make have always been beneficial to those who aspire to be better dancers, and better people at that. These two are no different. They just need some convincing. And…maybe a bit of finessing.” He offered her his water bottle, and she took it with a small smile. “Don’t doubt your decision before you’ve given the time to trust it.” Allura gave Shiro a sympathetic smile, which made him smile back.

“Thank you, Shiro.” She thanked. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.” Shiro shrugged.

“I’m a teacher. It’s my job to know what to say and when to say it.” His smile dropped as he thought about another crucial detail. “Also, when you live with a hormonal teenager who often throws tantrums for stupid reasons, you pick up on what calms the kid down the most. And, sometimes, that’s no easy feat!” Coran was walking by and overheard Shiro’s most recent statement.

“Oh, I know that feeling all too well, Shiro!” He exclaimed while carrying a basket full of lost items. “Allura was quite the trouble maker!” He gave the two a playful wink. Allura flushed bright fuchsia and Shiro snorted while holding back his laughter.

“Coran!” Allura shrilled with her arms stiff and fists clenched. Coran just laughed, and Shiro just had to. He just had to continue the joke.

“Kids, am I right?” He directed towards Coran with a toothy grin. Allura made no hesitation to turn to him with her mouth ajar. She then smacked and beat his shoulder playfully, Shiro bursting out into a fit of strained laughs trying to get her to stop, and Allura trying her absolute best to hold back her smile. The three all laughed before Coran continued his mission to the back of the studio, and Allura has since stopped abusing Shiro in an outburst of false rage. More yelling was heard from the inside of the room, which ceased their fits of laughter, as they turned towards the door curiously. 

“If you presume my decision is correct, then we need to do something about their behavior towards each other.” She put her hand up to her chin in a classic thinking position. “Or do you think we should let them sort it out on their own?” Shiro was quick to put down her answer.

“They’re guys. They’re not going to sort out anything that involves topics like feelings and morals. ESPECIALLY if it’s with another guy.” Allura hummed in acknowledgment, her face turning into one that was trying to understand the opposite gender.

“Masculinity is a frail thing, isn’t it?”

“Very.” She hummed at the response again and returned to her thinking position.

“Well, you’re a male also. And…you always know what to do…” She leaned in closer to Shiro, expecting an answer out of him. He reacted with a nervous grin.

“I…can’t give you an exact answer.” He unfortunately told her, which led to her pouting. “But, I can tell you that with these two, it’s not going to be easy.” She gave him a questioning look, so he continued. “Keith and Lance are both very dominant in nature. Competitive too. Unless one is proven wrong and vice versa, their conflict is not going to be resolved.” She looked off to the side, processing the information she was given.

“What if…both of them were proven wrong?” She asked him with a glint in her eyes. Shiro didn’t understand her phrasing, and gave her a suspicious, yet inquisitive squint. Allura didn’t seem to need, or want a response, as she stood up from the floor with confidence. “I have an idea.” She tells him, but more so speaking to herself. Shiro let out a sigh of relief. 

“Oh, if that’s all it is.” He leaned back against the wall as the sudden worry was lifted. Allura didn’t move from her spot.

“You’re coming with me, Shiro.” She ordered him with a serious expression. Shiro peered up at her and didn’t hesitate to obey with that kind of look in her eyes.

“Yes, princess.” He sputtered out whilst pushing himself off from the floor. He received a somewhat embarrassed look from her.

“Why do you call me that?” She snickered bashfully. Shiro gave her the best poker face that he could manage.

“Cause you don’t deserve to be called a queen.” He whispered in a painfully serious manner. Allura gasped, offended by his words. Shiro was then repeatedly abused by the woman in a fit of laughter.

From within the walls of the practice room, zero progress had been made since the two stepped foot in the door. Lance was unforgivingly vague on the types of partnerships in the dance world and insisted that Keith should play the part of the female because ‘it was the guy’s job to lead.’ Keith refused quite defiantly, taking the phrase as an insult, and instead persisted in basic footwork to work on individually instead of immediately going hand to hand and crotch to crotch as the closer they got, the more they fought. 

That wasn’t turning out exactly as planned either. Keith let out a loud, exasperated grunt from his peaked irritation with the other.

“Ugh, it’s right, then left. You’re off!” He accused the other.

“I’m off?!” Lance inquired with the same level of aggravation. “You’re the one that’s pushing too hard!”

“You’re not pushing hard enough!” The two were fuming at each other, and later turned to ignore the other completely. 

“You are impossible to work with!” Lance complained with a sour expression.

“Right back at you.” Keith spat with vigor, making sure the other could hear. Amid the horrible partner’s horrible practice session, a pretty robust knock occurred on the door. The knock wasn’t someone asking for permission to enter, but rather a warning that someone was entering. Allura entered with a not so happy look on her face.

“What the quiznack are you two doing?!” She shouted at them. Keith was really questioning that word. “Your bickering is disrupting the other classes!” Keith looked over to Lance and noticed his frightful expression. 

“We were being that loud?” Lance asked quietly, ashamed of himself now that he had angered someone so close to him. “We’re sorry. Really! We’ll try to keep our voices down.” He forced an urgent smile, but Allura’s anger remained the same. 

“Your voices are not the problem!” She scolded Lance, who coward down at the harshness in her voice. Hands on her hips, she directed her attention to both boys. “You guys aren’t working together as a team!” Lance appeared to be absolutely humiliated, while Keith kept his composure.

“No offense, Allura, but we’re not exactly a dynamic duo.” He informed her. “We tried to work together.” Allura directed all her attention towards Keith, who shivered slightly at her intense gaze.

“Have you really?” She asked him, skeptical.

“Yes!” Keith insisted. “We’re too different! We have absolutely nothing in common!”

“Your differences shouldn’t matter.” That was a new voice, but not one that Keith didn’t recognize. So, when he heard it, he turned his head to see Shiro looking at him with…disappointment. That hit him hard. When he saw the look on his face, he too caved in on himself with shame. “Partners are meant to bring out the best in each other despite their differences. Not bashing them because they’re different.” Lance and Keith’s heads hung low from the scolding of the two adults. Feeling more embarrassed with each second that passed. “Now, why can’t you two get along?” At the question, both boys shot their heads up shouting every wrong thing about the other at the same time. Shiro put his hands up. “Hey, Hey! One at a time!” He turns to Lance. “What’s your side?”

“Keith can’t dance!” He revealed. “All he does is freestyle, and that’s not dancing!” Keith, getting defensive, pushed Lance out of the way so that Shiro’s attention was on him.

“He’s trying to tell me that if I’m not doing what he’s doing that it’s wrong!” Keith shouted while Lance was trying to move him out of the way again.

“WHAT?! You’re doing the same thing!” Lance accused, crossing every boundary and getting in Keith’s face. Keith did the same thing in return.

“Because mine is better and you know it!” Shiro stepped in and separated the two from tearing each other apart.

“Stop it, both of you!” He scolded them. “This isn’t going to help either of you!” He then turned to Allura for some assistance. After all, she was the one that had the idea to fix this whole mess. Shiro was just there as backup. Allura understood the message clearly.

“Shiro is right.” She began. Her plan about to be put in action. “Looks like you two need to be taught a lesson. Why don’t you two sit at the front?” She directed them to the wall of mirrors, where they followed her order and sat crisscrossed on the floor. They sat a little too close to each other, sneered, and then scooted themselves away in the opposite direction. Allura’s lips perked up in the corners as she looked to Shiro with a sly expression. “Shiro?” She grabbed his attention, him looking to her curiously. Her smile widened. “Let’s do Hideaway.” Shiro’s face remained blank. He then pointed to her.

“You…” He points to himself. “Want me…to do Hideaway.”

“Yes, Shiro.” She seemed so sure. So stern. 

“Allura, you are wearing a boot.” He referenced her still recovering ankle to make a point.

“I am aware of that.” She mumbled. “I can work around it.” 

“Okay.” He shrugged it off the best way possible as he pulled out his phone. “Keith.” Keith peered up at him, him and Lance not knowing what to expect. “Go through my phone and find Hideaway.” He tossed the phone and Keith caught it quite gracefully. He unlocked Shiro’s phone, which surprised Lance to a certain extent.

“By?” He vaguely asked.

“Kiesza.” Kiesza? Keith did not know that artist by any means, but he knew that it didn’t sound like something Shiro would listen to. Scrolling through the thousands of songs that he had, he eventually found the specific song that was requested. He maxed out the volume and clicked on the song. An electric ding echoed through the room, and Keith and Lance were lost. The two instructors placed themselves in the middle of the floor and evenly distanced themselves away from each other. 

“We’ll start about forty seconds in.” Allura whispered to Shiro, who was listening intently. “And we’ll stop before the jazz walks.” Jazz walks? Wait….wait…

“Got it.” He approved while cracking his neck and doing little stretches. Connecting the dots, Keith scooted back over to Lance and leaned his head in.

“Lance.” He whispered. Lance leaned over to him.

“What?” He whispered back, keeping his eyes on the two dancers.

“What’s Allura’s best dance?” He asked. “Like, what’s her specialty?”

“Oh, jazz. Hands down.” Lance answered confidently. Keith raised his head, nodding slightly.

“Interesting.” He muttered, catching on to what was about to go down. At this point, the music had started to pick up, the vocalist hitting higher notes. It was easy to see Allura and Shiro counting themselves in, as they were tapping their leg, nodding in rhythm, and stopping the little movements they did with their feet so that they didn’t miss the que to come in. Just a few seconds after, the dance had begun with them pushing out their leg, turning to the back, and ball changing back to the front. The sound of the song got intense; Majority of the background noise diminishing. The two boys up front watched mesmerized by the sound, the choreography, and how in sync the instructors were. They melted down to the floor, swung their leg around to propel them back up. Then, they kicked their leg up again, went down again, then up again, and then they spun over their feet only to bend down again. The dance just kept moving itself forward and seemed to enhance the beat of the pop electronic song. 

Keith would be lying if he said that he didn’t find Shiro dancing a jazz number to be funny. He had never seen Shiro perform something with so many feminine qualities, yet he also didn’t realize just how flexible Shiro actually was. Like, for real? That move where they slid down into a split? Iconic! 

Even though it was clear that jazz wasn’t his go to, he was keeping up with Allura, the queen of jazz according to Lance. And as far as Lance has informed him, jazz was one of those dances where a lot of it looked easy, but once it was performed, took a lot of strength and stamina. Not only that, but it was fast. It goes from one move to the other in a heartbeat, and it’s easy to trip over your own feet. Needless to say, Keith was impressed. 

The choreographed section came to an end with both instructors standing strong, and Keith and Lance felt that it was only right for them to applaud them. They both started walking off to the sides, but then Allura said this.

“Shiro, freestyle here.” She instructed as she leaned up against the mirror near the two teens. Shiro redirected his footing and walked backwards back to the center of the floor. He didn’t ask questions and did what he was told. So, he started his freestyle to the same song without starting over, and just picking up at a random place in the song. It didn’t surprise Keith that his freestyle was hip hop oriented. What did surprise him, and this took Lance off guard as well, was how he was able to switch from jazz to hip hop in mere seconds. It even gave the illusion of the song having a different beat even though it didn’t change at all. The only thing that was different was that Allura’s choreography was more graceful and flowy and was choreographed to the softer sounds of the song. Shiro based his dancing on the background beats which gave it some oomph. To pick out a specific beat or instrument in a song that lies in the background and do a dance to it is incredibly hard. It’s like playing in a band: each instrument must single out their music and not worry about the other instruments who are playing different notes and different rhythms. It’s a hard skill to learn.

Shiro finalized his off-guard freestyle with an aerial, which obviously got Keith and Lance excited. They applauded him again, and Shiro did an awkward, but adorable little bow. Keith and Lance stood up and immediately gave the instructors praise.

“Wow! Allura, dancing with a broken ankle? What an icon!” Lance gushed at Allura, who laughed in return.

“I didn’t know you danced anything other than hip hop.” Keith commented. Shiro chuckled.

“I usually don’t.” He confessed. “It’s only on special occasions.” Allura allowed the two boys to freak about what they saw a few minutes before she decided it was time to speak.

“I enjoy you guy’s enthusiasm.” Allura spoke, bringing their attention on her. “But, I recall saying that you were supposed to be learning something from this.” Keith and Lance paled. Geez, this was exactly like school: they weren’t paying attention at all. They were too focused on admiring the performance to remember that they were supposed to be analyzing it like they were in AP Lit. “So, what can you take away from this?” Geez, this really was like high school.

“Uh, that you and Shiro work well together?” Lance attempted. Allura shook her head no.

“Keith? Do you have a guess?” She asked him. Keith simply shrugged and shook his head no. He was going to get it wrong anyway, so why bother? “The point of this was to open your minds about what you think about dance, and what you think about each other.” She turns to Keith. “Keith, you shouldn’t restrict yourself to one dance style all the time. You also shouldn’t say that you can’t learn another. Jazz is obviously not Shiro’s forte, yet he’s still open about how it improves him as a dancer.” She then turns to Lance. “And Lance, freestyle or not, dancing is about expressing yourself. It shouldn’t matter where someone comes from or how long they’ve been dancing. If they are dancing and are passionate about it, they are considered a dancer. That’s final.” Keith and Lance nodded at her instruction, feeling awkward that they were put back into a reprimand. “So, because of this, I’m giving you two an assignment.” An assignment? Gosh, they have dance homework? What bull. “Since dancing is about expressing yourself,” She side eyes Lance. “I want you both to find a song that defines you and choreograph a piece to it.”

“Oh, that actually doesn’t sound half bad.” Keith spoke honestly.

“Yeah, that sounds fun!” Lance agreed.

“However,” Keith and Lance paused at the however. A plot twist? What was this? Food Network’s Baking Championship? “You have to do it in your partner’s style.” 

“Aw, what?!” Lance whined. “That’s hardly fair! I only have one choice, Keith has multiple!” 

“That’s part of the challenge.” She informed him. Lance let out a heavy groan and glared at Keith.

“Okay, mullet. Pick your poison.” He growled. Keith shrugged.

“Uh, what can you do?” He asked. 

“What can I-? I ju- “Lance inhaled deeply, restraining himself from punching the guy in the face. “Okay. There’s ballet, lyrical, jazz, contemporary, modern, pom, Latin, ballroom, and I’ve done tap before, but it wasn’t my thing, so I wouldn’t consider it.” He listed each one off on his fingers, but Keith couldn’t keep track. He hadn’t the slightest idea what any of the dances were except for one.

“Uh…I guess I’ll do jazz?” Allura clapped her hands together.

“Wonderful! I’ll give you by the end of the month to have it completed.” She then gave them a stern look. “But, until then, you two needed to come up with a schedule and stick with it! What you do in this room is not my concern. Practice footwork one day and leaps the next. Whatever it is, you two need to work together as a unit!” She pointed her finger at them. “You will be here every weekday from 3:30 pm to 8:00 pm. No excuses!” She made her leave, calling for Shiro to follow her out. Keith and Lance stood frozen in their spots as the door was slammed shut behind them. Not only do they have to deal with each other in class, but now they must deal with each other at the studio? For hours?! Both let out a long sigh. Then, turned to each other looking defeated. Keith raised an eyebrow.

“…well…”

“…well?” Keith looked at the time on his phone.

“We got two hours to kill. You want to work on that schedule or…?” 

“Not really.” Lance groaned.

“Yeah, me neither.” They both sighed again. Silence taking over the space. “…when do you want to do it?” Lance shrugged.

“I mean, we have three classes together.” Lance spoke a little louder. “In a row.” Keith shrugged.

“Okay, that’s fine with me.” An awkward silence emerged once more. Keith peered over from the side. “…you want McDonald’s or something?” Lance then looked over from his shoulder. He sighed, still defeated.

“…sure.” 

“Cool.” The fact that they would have to get along eventually, the two grabbed their things and left the room in search of fast food. It wasn’t ideal, but a bonding moment was very much needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter really hits a little too close to home for me. Of course I try to have the songs I choose describe the characters and their relationship in some way, but the one I chose, Hideaway by Kiesza, was a song that I actually did a jazz number to in high school. I even based the choreography off of that!  
> Also, the other reasons why it hits close to home, is that the lessons that I had Keith and Lance learn, or in the process of learning, are lessons that I had to learn, and think are very important as a dancer. They can't work together until they embrace each other's differences and put themselves into the other's shoes. Which is important for them to understand.  
> Also, just Allura and Shiro's banter is my favorite. I love them adulting.  
> Okay, I could say more, but it's 9:48 pm and I got early classes tomorrow! So I'm getting off. But, I hope you liked the chapter! I can't guarantee when the next one will be out. But, you know, college.


	3. 1, 2 Step at a Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 3 IS OUT!!   
> My only goal was to get a chapter out before the last season, and I SUCCEEDED.  
> The last season comes out in two weeks and you know what else is in two weeks? My finals. (You can see why it was slightly difficult for me to continue writing).   
> I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway. It's not my intention to keep making the chapters longer, it's just happening. So, please enjoy! And tell me if this is something that people will still read even when Voltron ends.

Early morning struggled to arrive; the sun engulfing the streets as it emerged from the horizon line. The sky became painted in oranges and pinks, while a yellow hue glimmered brightly. Though the morning sky was the best possible way to awake from a deep slumber, it wasn’t in any means very efficient. As the light seeped through the gaps in the curtains, an obnoxious sound blared throughout the room. The alarm kept going off until a hand grabbed the phone, swiping his thumb across the screen to end the alarm.

Shiro groggily forced himself to sit up on the bed; his left hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Waking up early in the morning each day had become routine, so it wasn’t hard for him to get up and running. 

He did the usual: apply his prosthetic to his right arm, which was always a tad difficult to do, some light stretches to make sure it was working okay, then the typical steps like brushing his teeth, getting dressed for the day, and floofing up that little part of his hair so that it didn’t look like a rat’s nest. After that was done, he walked out of his bedroom and to the kitchen to get some, much needed, coffee. When he noticed that he was the only one up and about, which wouldn’t be the first time, he made his way over to the only other bedroom in the house. He approached the door and gave it three hard knocks. 

“Time to get up, Keith!” He announced loud enough for the one in the room to hear, but not to wake the entire neighborhood. From the other side of the door, Shiro heard groaning and mumbling with some light movement in the sheets. Shiro frowned; he was trying to block him out. In response to that, Shiro, with his flesh hand this time, pounded on the door full throttle. He could practically hear Keith jolt up in surprise as he hit his head on the head board. Shiro smiled victoriously. “Come on, Keith. You got to get up!” He said again, only to hear another groan. This groan, however, was him facing the facts as he rolled out of bed to reach the floor. This was good enough for Shiro, and he went back to the kitchen to finish his coffee.

Not even a minute later, Keith came running out in only his boxers looking slightly panicked. 

“I forgot my uniform was-“

“It’s washed and hanging up in the laundry room.” Shiro interrupted, pointing a finger in the direction of the uniform. Keith stood still for a few seconds before rushing over to the laundry room. From inside the laundry room, a sigh was heard amongst the rustling of clothes.

“Oh shoot, my work out clothes-“

“Are washed and already packed in your bag.” Shiro interrupted again, taking sips from his coffee cup. Keith emerged from the laundry room with a look of disbelief, while simultaneously adding the top half of his uniform on.

“You really do think of everything.” He commented while buttoning up his shirt. “Is there anything you’re not good at?” 

“I can’t cook.” Shiro answered. He then proceeded to grab a box of cereal from the pantry, and a carton of milk from the fridge, and placed both on the counter in front of Keith. Implying, I’m not making breakfast. Keith chuckled at the action as he sat at the counter. He looked at what he was given and snickered.

“Shiro,” He said, catching his attention. Shiro turned around to see Keith’s chuckling face. Keith continued, “I can’t have milk.” Shiro looked down at the poison he just placed in front of his little brother and gasped. Keith chuckled again.

“Dang, I really can’t do anything right when it comes to food!” He took the milk away from Keith and apologized for his ignorance.

“Milk goes in the fridge, Shiro.”

“That’s right.” He redirected his route from the pantry to the fridge, where it’s supposed to be. Keith busted out a laugh. “This is sad. Maybe you can find something else to eat?” He said in a questioning tone. 

“No, it’s fine. I like dry cereal anyway.” He waved off while sticking his hand in the box of Captain Crunch and eating a handful. The two Broganes continued out their morning in the usual way they would. Keith spinning around on the stool while simultaneously eating handfuls of cereal, being reprimanded by Shiro because he was going to get crumbs all over the place, and the standard of going down an invisible list to make sure they didn’t forget anything. 

“Oh, Keith,” Shiro called out, Keith looking over with mild interest. “Don’t forget to pack something for after school. You shouldn’t dance on an empty stomach.” Keith shrugged.

“I’ll just buy McDonald’s.” Shiro gave him a look of disapproval. 

“You had McDonald’s yesterday.” He said to him, not believing Keith’s absurd eating habits. With his hand in the box of Captain Crunch, Keith’s eyes slowly made its way to meet with Shiro’s with the upmost defiance.

“And I’ll eat it again today.” He spat out without a care. Shiro shook his head.

“No, you won’t.” He spat back. 

“I’m eighteen. I can do what I want.” 

“As long as you live under the roof that I pay for, you don’t get to make that choice.” Shiro searched through one of the cabinets and pulled out something to toss at Keith. “Take this with you instead of wasting money.” Keith caught the food thrown at him and made a face of disgust.

“Shiro, I hate protein bars.” 

“You are not eating McDonald’s before practice. Not only did you eat it yesterday, but you are going to make yourself sick and make your partner suffer.” He reprimanded, Keith showing a lack luster attention span. “Eat that.” Keith looked at the bar with a sour face, questioning its contents.

“…fine.” He mumbled, putting it in one of the pockets of his backpack. 

“Don’t forget water, also.” Keith hopped down from his seat and to the fridge to grab one of the many waters that they housed. “Oh, and Keith,” Keith looked to him whilst placing the water in his bag. “I might not be able to drive you to the studio every day. I have to stay after and grade papers and such.” 

“Does that mean you can’t drive me today?”

“Yes.”

“Dang it, Shiro. How am I supposed to get there then?”

“I think Lance drives.” Keith groaned at Shiro’s solution.

“I don’t want to be with that guy more than I have to!” He complained with a high voice. Shiro rolled his eyes at the complaint. 

“You two have to get along anyway. It’ll be good for you.” He reasoned. 

“What if Lance doesn’t drive?” Keith asked remembering Shiro’s choice of words.

“Lance gets there everyday on time somehow.” Shiro explained. “Just tag along, okay?” Keith’s shoulders slumped down with disappointment. 

“…okay.” He mumbled before they headed out of the house.

The drive itself was relatively quiet, but the drive eventually ceased when they reached their location. Shiro told Keith to have a good day, and to make friends and not enemies, with Keith responding that he couldn’t make any promises with a smirk. Popping his earphones in, he joined the crowd of kids making their way to their first class. 

Keith entered his first class with no trouble at all and took his seat in the back corner of the room. He took out the class’s materials and started working on the bellringer. The class, world history, was getting into the Cold War section of the course, and so the question was one that should be common knowledge to the students. Keith was sure that he knew the answer, but he looked it up just in case. He was right. After he finished that, he noticed that there were still a few minutes left until class started, so he put his earphones back in and picked a random station on Spotify to listen to. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. 

Allura said that they had to have their individual dance projects done by the end of the month. Keith had picked jazz because it was the only other one that he knew, but only because Shiro and Allura had demonstrated it in front of them. What made jazz…jazz? What songs were considered a jazz song? He knew what jazz was as far as instruments and band and stuff, but the dance? He hadn’t the slightest clue. And the song that he chose would have to describe him. As far as he knew, none of the songs in his favorite’s playlist were very jazzy. So, he was listening to other playlists on Spotify instead, just to try and widen his horizon. It wasn’t going well, considering he was skipping every other song. 

He heard someone slump into the seat in front of him, dropping their bag carelessly next to them, and let out an exhausted huff. Keith took a peek while listening to the horrid playlist, and once he did, his eyebrows furrowed, and he took his earphones out. 

“You sit near me in this class too?” He asked with more disbelief than surprise. At the notion of being talked to, Lance looked over his shoulder, noticed Keith, and twisted himself fully around to lay his arms on Keith’s desk. Which he did not appreciate. Did this guy not know about personal space?

“Oh, yeah. I’m telling you, I don’t know how you never noticed me before.” He commented with a wave of his hand and a roll to his eyes. Even after the conformation, he remained planted on Keith’s desk. It didn’t even look like he was expecting a response. He was just…chilling…on his desk.

“…Is there a reason why your arms are still sprawled across my desk?” He inquired, peeved. Lance just shrugged with a meh and readjusted himself to still be on his desk, but with one arm supporting the weight of his head. Keith’s eye twitched and he looked over at the clock. Two more minutes until class started. Those two minutes were going to feel like hours with this guy in his presence. 

“We gotta figure out that schedule today.” Lance reminded him with a lazy gaze. Keith looked him straight in the eyes, still annoyed, while putting his earphones and phone back in his bag.

“I know.” He told him. “I am well aware.” He purposely yanked his books out from under Lance’s arms, and Lance, with a brief second of dread appearing on his face, fell face first into the desk top. Keith snorted with a smirk while he watched the guy in front of him whine in agony. Lance peered up with an angry pout, his forehead showing a prominent red circle from when it hit the desk. 

“Real funny, mullet.” He seethed as he readjusted himself to be leaning against the arm of his chair. He proceeded to rub his forehead, as it still stung. “I was just trying to make light conversation.” 

“With a rhetorical topic.” Keith finished off while putting his stuff back down on the desk. 

“Okay, well how ‘bout this?” Lance started with a hint of annoyance. “How do you think we should split this up?” 

“Every other day I suppose?” He answered almost immediately. He didn’t really care how the schedule looked as long as it was done. 

“Okay, what are we doing every other day?” Lance tried to pry more information out of him, but he just rolled his eyes out of irritation. 

“I don’t know, Lance.” He snapped. “What do you usually do?” 

“Well, by this time, Allura and I are rehearsing our number for competitions.” Lance stated matter-of-factly. “But, we can’t do that because I’m dancing with you now. And we don’t have a number to practice! We don’t even have a style of dance picked, or a song, or even a concept idea! I don’t even know if we’re competing!” He ranted off. Keith held his hands up in false defense.

“Okay…chill.” He said with a frown. “Say we were competing: what would you and Allura do before you had the dance done?” He asked more simply. “Or, in any of your other classes, how would you begin it?”

“I mean, mainly just across the floor stuff.” Lance answered. Keith nodded in approval.

“Okay. Then, let’s do across the floor stuff every other day.” He reasoned. He glanced back at the clock. One more minute. Dang, this was going by slowly. Lanced frowned.

“We are not doing across the floor stuff for five hours.” He shot down. “We can start off every other day with across the floor stuff, but we are not doing it the whole time.” Keith groaned.

“Fine. Then…maybe we separate it by cardio and stretching or something.” He added in while tapping his finger against the desk. Lance’s eyebrows raised while he pointed a finger in his direction. 

“That’s a good idea. That can knock off some time!” Finally, they were getting somewhere. The bell rang, signaling the end of their discussion and the beginning of class. The teacher walked in, and Lance turned around after saying, “We’ll finish this later.” 

World history passed in an instant, and Calculus came right after. Lance and Keith walked together to their next class to try and get the stupid schedule done as soon as possible. What they had so far is that they would do a warm up and stretch every day, as they should, and that Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays would include across the floor. Lance insisted that across the floor drills should take three out of the five days they had together because they could cover a lot of basic moves that Keith didn’t know. Keith agreed, but only to get Lance to shut up about it. 

They had no free time in Calculus to continue their scheduling, but once it ended, they were lucky enough that Physics was right next door, so that gave them quite a bit of time to organize it more. It’s important to note that Lance and Keith sat in close proximity to each other in Calculus as well. Keith concluded that he was an idiot for never noticing Lance at all throughout the year. 

They couldn’t figure out what they should do for the second half of rehearsal. Cardio and Stretching: easy. Across the floor stuff: sure, why not? But, everything else? A typical rehearsal would include all the stuff they mentioned, but with a routine to practice or learn right after. They didn’t have that leisure. They weren’t instructors, and as Lance mentioned before, they had no routine to rehearse. Guess they just had to wing it.

When the final bell rang, Keith, for the first time, was the first one out the door. He needed to find Lance as quickly as humanly possible. He had failed to inform him that he needed a ride, time just got away from him, but he needed a ride. Or, he at least needed to know how Lance got to the studio everyday on time. When he got outside, he patiently waited around to look for Lance. He thought that it wouldn’t be that hard to find him, but, then again, everyone was wearing a variation of the uniform they had to wear, and Lance’s color palette was just different shades of brown. What was he thinking?!

Growing more and more anxious over the fact that Lance wasn’t showing up, and the thought that he could’ve left already, and having no way to contact him at all, Keith crossed his arms and started tapping his heel out of nervous habit. 

That was when he heard the door next to him swing open, and he heard a voice that gave him a weird sort of relief. Hearing his voice, Keith approached up behind him. 

“Haha, okay. I’ll see you later, Hunk!” Lance waved goodbye and turned around in the other direction. He shrieked when he came face to face with his mortal enemy. Keith jumped and pressed a hand to his heart at the unexpected shriek. “Holy cheese, Keith!” He sounded upset. Also, holy cheese?

“What?!” Keith responded, getting defensive. Lance took a deep breath in and stood up straight.

“You…you startled me.” He said with an unnaturally calm approach. Keith’s face contorted into confusion, but then twisted into a teasing grin.

“Startled? Seemed more like I scared you.” 

“No no. Startled.” He corrected, attempting to keep his pride steady. He turned away, clearing his throat quite aggressively. He then turned back to Keith and asked, “What do you want?”

“I need to get to practice” He answered vaguely, his expression unchanged. Lance cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah…so do I.” He replied. “See you there.” He went to walk away, but Keith needed his full attention.

“No, Lance-“ He cut himself off until the other turned to face him. Keith paused as he stared. “I need a ride.” He noticed the corners of Lance’s mouth rising up, and Keith frowned at what, he knew, was going to follow after. 

“A ride?” Lance held back a snicker. “You mean, you can’t drive?” 

“I can drive!” He argued, spitting venom. “I just don’t have a car!” 

“Uh huh, sure.” He muttered with disbelief. Keith’s eyes twitched.

“Can you give me a ride, or not?!” He questioned through clenched teeth. Lance shrugged. 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll drive you.” He didn’t want to drive Keith, it was evident in the tone of his voice; but, if Keith wasn’t at practice, he wasn’t going to hear the end of it from Allura. A fifty-fifty chance that both resulted in a bad outcome. “Come on.” He turned on his heel leisurely and Keith followed. They were making their way to the student parking lot, which was a short walking distance away from where they were. 

Keith had never been in the student parking section himself. It was actually rather obnoxious walking through the hoard of students and their vehicles. People were honking at each other in a joking manor, stopping in the middle of the road to wait for a friend, pretending like they were going to run each other over, and more ridiculous actions that just didn’t make sense.

He heard the clinging of Lance pulling out his keys and then the light clicks of doors being unlocked. He didn’t know which car had unlocked, he wasn’t paying attention. 

“Alright, get in.” Lance ordered pointing to a particular vehicle with his thumb. Using context clues, Keith could only conclude that the car he stood in front of was Lance’s. 

“This is your car?” He inquired, eyebrows raised. Lance looked to the car, then back to Keith.

“…yeah.” He answered. Keith was baffled.

“You drive a Mustang?!” At the audible surprise, Lance cracked a cocky grin.

“Yeah. She’s beautiful, right?” He asked. Yeah, it was a fucking Mustang. It was sleek…sexy even. People said that cars were sexy right? That’s not weird. 

Keith took in every inch of the sports car. The car looked brand new: it was a recent model and was colored a bright blue. The truest blue imaginable. On top of that, it had the iconic double black stripes that ran from the front of the car to the back. The paint was chipping in some areas, mainly around the hood and anywhere where there was a door, but it was barely noticeably. 

“I know. Ol’ Blue is quite the sight.” Lance sighed, sounding so in love as he turned to it, and laid a hand on the hood. “I’m lucky to have her.” He spoke about his car as if it were a girlfriend, and surprisingly, Keith didn’t blame him. 

“How on earth did you get a mustang?” Keith had to ask. Because if this guy was able to get one, shoot! Maybe he could pick one up! In a different color though. Keith wasn’t too into blue. Maybe…red. Red was more like it. 

“Oh, well, I wrecked my first car.” Lance began, the word wrecked catching Keith’s attention. Keith looked over with a slightly nervous, aware gaze. “And not long after, I get a call from my buddy, Hunk. And he’s like, Hey, I found a mustang that I think I can fix up. Looks more like a you car than a me car though. You want it? And I was like, hell yeah!” He paused to see Keith’s expression. “Oh, Hunk’s a friend of mine! He’s really big into fixing up vehicles, and he’s really good at too!” Well, glad that was out of the way. “Anyway, so I went over to help him fix up this here mustang, and we’ve been together ever since.” Lance then proceeded to hug the roof of the car. 

“If this friend of yours fixes cars,” Keith started to ask because something just didn’t make sense. “Why couldn’t he fix your original car.”

“Cause I wrecked it. Don’t you listen?” Lance answered, a tad peeved because Keith wasn’t listening to his story. Keith was more worried on the word wrecked. If what Lance was saying was true, then the first car that he wrecked was damaged beyond repair. Oh god, what was Keith getting himself into? “Well, no matter!” Lance suddenly said, opening the door on the driver’s side. “We’re going to be late if we wait around any longer! So, come on!” 

“Right.” Keith affirmed, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He then proceeded to open the passenger side door.

“Uh, no. N-n-n-n-no. I call shotgun.” Lance suddenly protruded while shaking his finger. Keith stopped what he was doing to look at Lance.

“But you’re driving.” He said confused. Both him and Lance still stood outside the car. Lance stopped him before he could step foot inside. 

“Ahp-pup-pup-pup! Me, shotgun. You, back.” 

“Ass wipe.” Keith grumbled, angrily slamming the door and getting in the backseat. He shoved his stuff to the opposite side of him, fastened his seatbelt, and closed the door shut. Lance adjusted himself in the front, putting his bag in the passenger seat and starting the car up. The sound of the engine was absolute music to Keith’s ears. Right now, the mustang was what was keeping Keith from straight up walking to the studio. Anything was better than being with Lance. Lance then took out his phone and plugged it into the AUX. He looked back to Keith.

“You wanna pick a station?” He offered the phone to him, and Keith looked to him and then the phone…and then back to Lance.

“Uh…sure.” He half smiled and reached out for the phone. 

“Hm, that’s too bad.” Lance let down as he took the phone away before Keith could grab it. Keith remained still with his arm outstretched. How were they supposed to work together if one of them wouldn’t cooperate?! Keith clenched his hand into a fist and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms because someone put him in a sour mood. “Oh, this is a good station. Aw, I love this song!” Lance voiced out loud as Whenever, Wherever started playing. Keith never really cared for Shakira, but he didn’t have a say in the matter, so it didn’t matter. Lance put his foot on the gas and Keith jerked in his seat. Lance let out a cackle because of Keith’s reaction. Keith glared daggers at the driver.

“Hey, watch it!” He shouted. 

“Oh, what? You scared?” He said in a mocking voice. Keith squinted, his patience gradually getting to the point of not existing.

“With you behind the wheel?” He leaned in through the gap in between the driver’s seat and the passenger seat. “Terrified.” He spat out every syllable with as much diction as he could, purposely spiting Lance. It worked, and Lance turned to him with the most fed up expression a person can have. Without breaking eye contact, Lance put his hand on the gear and put it in drive. He stomped on the gas, the whole car jolting forward, causing Keith’s seatbelt to choke him and then he, forcibly, fell back in the seat. Lance cocked a grin and proceeded to pull out of the parking space and onto the main road.

They arrived at the studio unharmed, luckily. After listening to 2000’s pop nonstop, it finally ceased once Lance removed the keys after he parked the car. Keith immediately unbuckled his seat belt and forced the car door open. 

“You…are THE WORST. DRIVER. EVER!” He enunciated, semi out of breath. He legitimately felt nauseous. Dizzy even. Was this motion sickness? Keith never had motion sickness before. Keith loved to go fast; however, driving fast was only fun when it was in an open space, with no one around for miles. That’s what made it fun. Not when it’s on an interstate with three interchangeable lanes where a crash could happen at any moment. Lance exited the car and locked it up with a beep. 

“Oh whatever, mullet!” Lance rolled his eyes. “I am a great driver!”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Keith insulted. Lance gasped, getting defensive.

“I AM! I only drove like that because you were in the car!”

“Comforting.” He muttered while he grabbed his stuff off the ground. With no other words spoken, the two entered the building with pissed attitudes. 

When they entered the Castle, they checked in with Coran, as per usual, went to the back to change into appropriate clothing, and then proceeded to their assigned room. 

It went just as well as they had expected…which was not very well. They argued on who would lead the warm-up, which wasted a good ten minutes, and what song to do, which wasted five minutes. Keith ultimately made the decision to follow Lance because he was being such a baby over it. The scene became calmer after that. They didn’t do anything that different as far as how they warmed up, so it was pretty easy to follow through. Across the floor though. Yeesh. 

Lance had zero patience when it came to Keith. He just didn’t get. All the moves they were doing were super simple, easy peasy; yet, for some reason, Keith kept tripping over his own feet. Like, wasn’t he a dancer? Isn’t he supposed to have rhythm? Why can’t he get this right? Lance even tried to explain each step to him, but he just kept replying with, “What?” It was so frustrating! 

So, yeah. They actually ended up spending the majority of their time doing across the floor in an attempt to teach Keith the basics. It was far more different than Keith’s street moves, which was hard for him to get used too, but he kept saying that he could get it down if he was given some time. Lance was bothered by the statement, but he really didn’t have a choice in the matter. Him + Keith = partners, according to Allura. And Allura was all powerful. No one questioned her. 

It was not a good practice.

When it got to the last few minutes, Lance sat on the ground looking defeated and unmotivated, while Keith continued to stand and practice some of the moves they just did. Lance was taking sips of his water when he noticed Keith pause, so he also paused as he looked at him. He looked as if he was contemplating something. 

“…Hey, Lance?” He suddenly brought up whilst turning to him. 

“Yep?” He replied as he put his water down.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“No.” 

“Really?” Keith ceased all movement to turn to Lance. “You’re really going to be like that?”

“Yep.” Lance replied, taking a swig of his water. Keith rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” The room grew quiet again.

“You know,” Lance started. “You should cool down. We only have a few minutes left.”

“I’m fine.” Keith replied. “I’m just marking.” 

“Okay. Just sayin’.” Lance shrugged off. After a few seconds, Lance pushed himself off the floor. “Alright, I’m leaving. See you tomorrow I guess.” He walked over to his stuff and slung it over his shoulder.

“Alright. See ya.” Keith said, too focused on what he was doing to break eye contact with his reflection. Lance repeated his goodbye as he left the room, leaving Keith to be by his lonesome. “What a jerk.” Keith mumbled to himself as he was looking to his feet as if they had answers. 

Keith didn’t stay that long after Lance left. After grabbing his stuff, he left the room and into the lobby where he saw Shiro waiting for him. He hoped that he hadn’t been waiting long. After exchanging a few sentences, they went out to Shiro’s car where they eventually left the premises.

On the drive back, Keith made the decision to ask Shiro the question that he was going to ask Lance but was rudely declined of the opportunity. 

“Hey, Shiro?” He began, shifting his head to look to Shiro instead of out the window.

“Yeah, Keith?” 

“What song should I do for the jazz dance?” He asked. Shiro shrugged as they stopped at a red light.

“I don’t know. That’s supposed to be your choice.” He answered simply. Keith sighed.

“Okay, how bout’ this?” He tried again. “What defines a song as a jazz song?” Shiro hissed at the question.

“I’m not sure I’m the one to ask.” He answered honestly.

“I know, but…got any tips anyway?” The light turned green and the car was put into motion again. Shiro’s face scrunched in a thinking manor. Keith, in return, watched and waited for an answer. 

“Well,” Shiro began, not knowing if his statement would be helpful. “There’s an unspoken rule that Allura told me a while back when it comes to jazz.” He turned to Keith to see if he wanted to hear it. He didn’t show any signs of not caring, so Shiro continued. “When in doubt: Brittany Spears.” Keith cocked an eyebrow.

“Brittany Spears?” He repeated in a questioning manor. 

“Yeah.” Shiro confirmed. “You can pick any Brittany Spears song and choreograph a jazz routine with it.” The answer made Keith groan.

“Man, I don’t want to do Brittany Spears.” He whispered to himself as he dragged his hands down his face. Shiro laughed at the dramatics. 

“Well, you don’t have to do a song by Brittany Spears.” He explained further, trying everything in his power to keep Keith sane. “Just…use it as a start to get an idea on what types of songs are the easiest to use.” Keith slouched down in the seat.

“Alright.” He breathily said. 

The rest of the week went by exactly the same. Keith and Lance still didn’t get along, though they were getting better. The practices were still a mess because Lance and Keith thought of practice differently, and so it usually dragged on because of either one of them not understanding something the other said or did. This was the same for the next week…and the next week.

After that third week, the weekend soon followed. Lance was rather drained of all motivation and stress started to gradually take over his mental state. Balancing school and dance was always difficult for him, but now especially so. Dance was supposed to be his outlet, something he enjoyed and didn’t have to think too much about; but, ever since Keith came into the picture, that hasn’t been the case. The poor guy didn’t know the difference between a fouetté and a coupe. 

But now it was Saturday, and he could take a break from that.

But now he was overwhelmed with stress because of two exams coming up and the fact that he still hasn’t done anything to prepare for the stupid dance he has to show at the end of the month. 

So, because the anxiety was keeping him from sleeping, he decided that he just needed to go for a drive and take some time for himself. So, he grabbed his stuff and did just that. 

He would do this sort of thing often. Not every day, not every week, but often. He hadn’t done it in a while now, but it’s been a special couple of weeks. 

He was driving aimlessly, not knowing where he was going, until the dance studio came into view. He supposed that it had just become habit to drive there, even when he didn’t know he was, but he wasn’t mad at it. He just thought, “Sure. Why not?” and pulled into the parking lot of the Castle of Lions. 

Lance had always liked the story of how the Castle of Lions came to be. It always made Allura happy when she got the chance to talk about it, because it was her pride and joy. There wasn’t a lot to look at as far as appearance, but Lance always felt special walking in to it. Like he was chosen to carry some sort of tradition that went way back. It was a nice feeling. 

A nice enough feeling that when Lance used a spare key that Allura entrusted him with to open the currently dark, empty building, he just felt relief. Like he was home. Or, close enough to it. 

He didn’t bother with turning on the lights, because there were enough windows that the moonlight gave a pleasant luster to the empty space. He grabbed his small bag of stuff, that he always carried with him, and made his way to the back. Maybe this was what he needed. Maybe he just needed to dance without the restriction of someone holding him back. This would relieve him of some of his distress.

Until he heard an audible grunt and was immediately stricken with fear. 

Who was here? Was it anyone at all? It was steering close to one in the morning. Absolutely no one should be here! Unless…

Lance started sweating bullets.

“Oh my god, is this place haunted?” He thought to himself as he stood motionless in the hall. “What if I open the door and no one’s there? What if it’s a demon? What if it tries to kill me?” He tip-toed to the location of the sound, as best he could with shaky legs, and hovered his equally as shaky hand over the door handle. “Okay, on the count of three,” He told himself. “One, two, three.” Keeping his word, he pushes the door open as fast as he could.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” Lance screamed in a shrill pitch. When he got the chance to take a good look at what scared him, he squinted to see better while relaxing his scared-stiff positioning. “Wait…Keith?”

“Lance?”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Lance inquired seeing as the demon was just Keith all along. Keith averted his wide eyes to anywhere but at Lance.

“Um, I was just-uh…”

“And how did you get in here?” Lance asked before he finished. “You don’t have a key!” Keith remained completely silent. Lance couldn’t believe it. “Did you break in?!” 

“No, no. I didn’t. I just…” Keith bit his lip while he twisted his expression. After a few seconds, he let out a huge sigh. “I picked the back-door lock.” 

“Oh my god.” Lance covered his eyes with his hand, not wanting to believe the story. “My partner is an intruder. A partner in crime.” He just blew his own mind. Keith turned his head further around because of Lance’s choice of words.

“No, Lance, I’m not an intru-“

“You busted through the back-door!” He accentuated with an incredulous expression.

“Don’t tell Allura!” He said more frantically to get his reasoning across, another audible grunt escaping his lips. “I just come here to practice!” Lance cocked an eyebrow. 

“Practice?” He repeated, less apprehensive than before. Keith nodded. “Practice what?” Keith was stumbling over his wording, not because of nerves, but just because he didn’t know how to put it. While he was doing that, Lance took the time to look at what exactly Keith was doing. His right leg was raised up on the dance bar, and both of his hands were on the bar as well to keep his torso from leaning over too far to the left. Lance snorted, making Keith freeze. “Are you trying to stretch your leg?” Keith turned to face the other with a bit of an awkward face.

“….Yes?” He answered. Lance thought back to what made him enter the room in the first place.

“…You’re stuck, aren’t you?” 

“What? No!” Keith retorted immediately. He saw Lance’s doubtful, yet smug face and realized that he wasn’t fooling anyone. He slumped his head down in humiliation. “Yes, I’m stuck.” Lance took the time to bust out laughing at Keith’s predicament, not making him very happy. 

“Okay, okay, I got chu’, buddy.” Lance stepped forward, trying to stifle his laughter. He made his way over to the struggling individual and put his hands under his right ankle. “Okay, you ready?” 

“Just help me.” He answered, while also dodging the question asked. Lance shrugged. 

“Alright.” He said without a care. “You might want to take a deep breath.” Keith did so, and Lance lifted Keith’s leg up. Keith winced at the unwanted stretch. When it was off the bar, he let out the breath heavily; putting all his weight from the top half of his body on the bar. 

“Thanks.” He thanked in a breathy tone. 

“Sure.” He replied a little too nonchalantly. “Now, why’d you do that?”

“Huh?” 

“Why’d you force your leg up there if you know it’s physically incapable?” He looked at Keith like he was an idiot, because he was. Forcing the body to do something it’s not prepared to do is dangerous and is, like, the number one rule in dance health. And he just broke it. Keith leaned up against the bar that originally held his leg captive, fully facing Lance now. 

“Just trying to catch up.” He said with a casual shrug. 

“Catch up on what?” 

“Everything?” Keith replied, treating Lance like he was the idiot now. “I don’t know how to do much, so I’m just trying to prep myself more.” Lance appeared bewildered, which in return confused the other.

“You’re….practicing what we do throughout the week?” Lance questioned like he was unsure. Keith nodded slowly, unsure if it was the right answer. Lance’s eyes went wide, and he started blinking repeatedly. “You’re practicing?!” Keith didn’t know how to respond to Lance’s shock.

“…yes!” He matched pitch with Lance when he confirmed it. “I hate not knowing how to do something, and we have that thing due at the end of the month. I figured I had to do SOMETHING in my spare time. So, I come here.” Lance crossed his arms, smacking his lips.

“Well,” He began, wanting to start easy. “What sort of things are you trying to learn- “He raised his hands, his fingers going into quotation position. “in your spare time.” Keith let out a sound of uncertainty.

“Uh…what’s that…thing…with the leg?” 

“That could, uh, be a lot of things.” Lance told him, wanting him to be more specific. If he didn’t even know the name of what he was trying to learn, that was already a bad sign.

“It’s, um…well, you raise the leg.” Keith tried to show the basic movement of how the move goes. “And the leg goes up, but the body goes down?” He really was trying to explain it the best way he could. He didn’t have a very good visual either. His leg barely reached a ninety-degree angle. Lance mouthed an oh like he might’ve gotten it and follows the same movement that Keith was doing except his legs become perfectly vertical. Keith stared an awe.

“Is it this?” He asked as if his body wasn’t contorted in the way that it was. Keith couldn’t say anything, so he just nodded. Lance returned the nod. “Tilt.” He returned to his normal, human standing position. “It’s called a tilt.” Keith mouthed an oh followed with a nod. 

“Yeah, that.” He said, a little too late. “I thought it would look good in the choreography, so I wanted to do it.” 

“Wait, you already started choreographing?” He asked Keith surprised. Great, now he felt behind.

“Yeah…haven’t you?” 

“Err….no.” Man, he hated to say that to Keith. “I can’t pick a song.” 

“Oh.” Keith realized what Lance must be feeling and decided that he didn’t want to be an asshole. “I mean, you still have time, so it’s fine!” He tapped his fingers together because, man, he was not good at talking. “So, uh,” He began, getting Lance’s attention. “How did you, um, make your leg do that?” 

“The tilt?” 

“Yeah. Like, how did you make it go completely straight? Cause that’s what I want it to do.”

“You can’t.” 

“Huh?”

“You can’t do it.” Keith looked visibly offended, maybe even slightly aggravated that someone told him that he couldn’t do something.

“You want to run that by me again?” He said in a near threatening tone to Lance. Lance realized that there was a misunderstanding and put his hands up.

“I mean, you can do it.” He corrected to ease the other. “It’s just not going to be as straight as mine.” 

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I mean, to get a perfect tilt, a perfect split, you need to practice, and stretch, for years and years and years.” He put his hands down because he saw a shift in the other’s aura. 

“Like, how many years are we talking about?” Keith pressed further.

“We’re talking about from the age of four to the age of sixteen.” Lance put in perspective. “At least that’s how long it took me. And, keep in mind, I’ve undergone hours of training. Hours that you do not have.” 

“…I see.” Keith said, feeling like he should’ve known this. Was it strange that Lance actually felt…bad? Like, guilt? He thought he hated this guy, but now he’s just found out that he’s been spending extra hours to try and learn the things that were originally holding him back. That was dedication that Lance didn’t expect him to have. He felt like such an ass for telling him hey, that thing you’ve been practicing. You can’t do it in the amount of time that you want. Lance saw Keith put his hands behind his head, clearly contemplating what to do next. He could leave right now, but, somehow, he just couldn’t.

“Okay, you already have some choreography done?” Lance questioned, putting his hands on his hips. Keith looked to him slightly unaware of the approach.

“I mean, yeah? It’s not enough to show off though.” Keith paused, thinking about his next choice of words. “I mean…I guess I could show you…?” He didn’t wait for a response from Lance, as it seemed evident that he wanted to see, and started getting music ready from his phone.

“Woah woah woah, stop.” Lance waved his arms in a crisscross motion, setting Keith off guard. “Aren’t you going to change?” This confused Keith.

“Uh, no?”

“You always dance in that?” 

“Yeah?” Lance shook his head, not liking the answer he got one bit.

“Okay, first off!” He sauntered over to Keith, who stood perfectly still. “When you are doing a dance such as jazz, you need to wear a shoe with a flexible sole.” He pointed to Keith’s ratty sneakers. “Take them off.” Keith gave Lance a weird look. Lance returned the look. “Take them off.” Keith sighed, rolling his eyes in the process, and removed the sneakers from his feet. Lance took them from his hands and threw them to the side. Keith watched as Lance bent down to his feet. He motioned for Keith to give him a foot and Keith did. Lance pulled down the cuff of the sock. “Yeah. You see?” He motioned for Keith to get a closer look, so he leaned over. “Your ankle’s starting to bruise, might even be some swelling later.” He pointed around his ankle which, low and behold, was starting to become discolored with faded yellows and blues. Keith didn’t even notice. Lance put Keith’s foot down. “You should probably give your ankles some breathing room. When you dance, don’t wear those sneakers, okay? They’re going to make your ankles worse as time goes on.” Lance advised standing back up. Keith muttered an okay, realizing that, right now, Lance was actually helping him. This was for Keith’s sake, not Lance’s. He also seemed…nice, right now at least. He had never been nice to Keith before.

As Lance observed Keith again, he shook his head again. Signaling Keith that he had done something wrong, again.

“Just as a rule of thumb,” He started. “When you dance jazz, you want to wear clothes that show off your body lines.” Keith’s mind went blank, blinking once or twice because…what did that even mean?

“Lines? Like, body rolls?” He questioned, He didn’t really get it. Lance shook his head. 

“No no no, lines as in, like, your silhouette. Your outline.” He stepped closer to Keith, even though he was near too close before. He put his hands under Keith’s arms and raised them, so that they were straight. “You want it to show off your shoulders,” He placed both of his hands on Keith’s shoulders. “Your arms,” He spread his hands along the length of Keith’s arms. Keith’s eyes following as they moved. Lance swooped his hands under his arms. “Your hips,” Lance’s hands rested on Keith’s hips, comfortably, making Keith stiffen with tension. “and so on. Make sense.” Keith swallowed whatever lump was in his throat because Lance was too close for comfort, but this seemed to be normal for him, so Keith just had to suck it up. “Your clothes are too baggy. I can barely tell where your waist is.” So, Lance didn’t purposely grab Keith’s hips? A good note, he supposed. “Off.” Keith came back to reality at the word. 

“What?” Keith asked. Lance took a step back, very aware of what he said. 

“Your clothes. Take them off.” Keith was bewildered. “I don’t want to see you in anything except for your underwear. Unless you’re not wearing any. In which case, that’s disgusting.” 

“I’m wearing underwear!” Keith defended himself. “But I am not going to strip to prove I’m right!” Lance rolled his eyes.

“Dude, we’re both dudes, and we’ve changed in the same locker room for gym. Just strip down already. I’m trying to help you.” 

“I am not stripping!”

“Do you want me to help you, or not?!”

“I mean, yeah!”

“Then just take your clothes off, damn it!” Keith was hesitant as he considered his options. Lance was staring him down, and what choice did he really have? He groaned angrily and ferociously removed his shirt and pants. He threw them off to the side and faced Lance with his arms crossed. Screw him for making him feel so exposed. Keith noticed Lance looking down with…a very shocked and worried expression. Keith’s eyes glanced down and then back to Lance. He was beginning to feel self-conscious. 

“My god, Keith…” Lance mumbled, still looking down. Keith’s eyes went down again, lingering a bit longer before looking back up to Lance.

“W-what?” He audibly muttered. 

“…what the hell did you do to your knees?!” Lance pointed to Keith’s knees, which made Keith look down to them. He let out a sigh. So, he was talking about his knees, huh? He thought it was….never mind. Keith just shook his head and scolded himself for that being the first thing he thought of.

“What about them?” He inquired, getting back to the topic at hand. Lance looked absolutely fearful.

“What do you mean?! They’re covered in bruises!” Keith’s knees were swollen to the size of baseballs, and painted with so many purples, greens, and blues that his natural skin color was no where to be seen. Keith just shrugged.

“They’re just bruises.” He shrugged off. 

“Just bruises?” Lance was incredulous. “They’re bigger than my hand! They’re, like, bone bruises!” Keith just shrugged again, making Lance furious. He sighed. “What exactly have you been doing?!” Keith knew the answer to this one. It was pretty self-explanatory. 

“Knee-drops.” Keith answered. Lance blinked. 

“Knee-drops?”

“Knee-drops.” Keith was proud that he knew the right terminology but dropped his smile as he saw Lance shake his head.

“No, no, Keith! You’re supposed to catch yourself in a knee-drop! Not straight up fall to your knees full force!” Keith muttered an oh and Lance just kept shaking his head. “Alright, listen,” Keith looked him in the eyes, or as close as he could without feeling weird because of the lack of clothing on his body. “I will help you with all your jazz to make sure that you don’t hurt yourself further.” Lance brought up. “And don’t just make it after hours. The extra time on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday will be just for you, and we will only work on you.” Keith was flabbergasted at the offer, but something didn’t seem right. He cocked an eyebrow.

“What’s the catch?” He asked him. Lance sheepishly scratched the back of his neck and averted his gaze.

“…if-“

“If?” 

“If you help me with hip hop.” Lance looked down in shame, and Keith felt himself smirking. It was weird to feel superior wearing just boxers. In spite of this, Lance had helped Keith out a lot tonight, and wasn’t as much of a jerk as Keith thought. So, Keith dropped his smirk and replaced it with a small smile. 

“Sure.” He agreed. “And don’t just make it after hours. The extra time on Tuesday and Thursday will be just for you, and we will only work on you.” He mocked Lance’s statement and, in response, let out a soft chuckle. They shook hands to seal the deal. This was the most productive practice so far, and it was at one o’ clock in the morning.

…

“Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I put my clothes back on? It’s cold in here.”

“…yes, you can put your clothes back on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter might be a bit boring, but it's necessary. Sometimes a boring chapter is necessary.   
> But, anyway, what were your favorite parts in this chapter? Cause I definitely have a few. I'm curious.   
> Enjoy your day, get through finals week, watch the Voltron Finale, have a fantastic Christmas Break!   
> Until the next chapter: peace out.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to say that it takes place in Texas because I thought the Galaxy Garrison was in Texas...it's not. It's in Arizona. BUT! I'm keeping the setting the way it is because it works.  
> Did you catch anything? Let me know if you did! I'll definitely be continuing this, but I am in college and might not update frequently.


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